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The Impregnator's Diary #5
First weeks – Wild firing and hot totty
by Craig Alan Williamson, 26th September 2008
Published on DIYfather.com, 20th November 2008
I’m a Dad. I still don’t think it has sunk in, but the milk gushing out of my wife’s breasts during sex confirms that something has indeed changed in our lives. Henry’s first few weeks have been the most amazing, frightening, exhilarating, stressful and rewarding time of my entire life.
Dawn ended up staying in the hospital with Henry for a couple of days while she began her recovery from the Caesarean, which meant that I was restricted to playing a visiting role in our son’s life for a short while. Nevertheless, I was still there to change his first dirty nappy and he dutifully introduced me to the unpredictable targeting of baby penises. Our little fellow’s little fellow fired wildly while his bottom dribbled out a gooey black mess during the split second we weren’t looking. Dawn and I laughed heartily while struggling to staunch the flow from every hole, but we got there in the end.
The early days were particularly tough on Dawn who had limited mobility, even after we had returned home. I took on more household chores than ever before, even ones that I thought were a waste of time (like cooking vegetables to go with a meal). And the discussion about Dawn’s mother staying with us arrived at a surprisingly easy decision once I had discovered that Dawn wasn’t going to be able to do the ironing for 6 whole weeks. I simply didn’t have enough shirts to get me through that length of time.
There were plenty of ‘firsts’ during the early weeks: the first nappy change; the first bath; the first sneeze; the first hiccups; the first family outing; and the first time my wife accidentally flashed her boob in public. The boob incident happened on Bournemouth seafront after a successfully discreet breast-feeding session in our car. Holidaymakers wandered past our car without any suspicion that Dawn was feeding Henry under her shirt. All was going so well until Dawn got out of the car to go into the rear seats, where she somehow managed to change Henry’s nappy, say hello to a few passers by and then get back into the front of the car, all with her left boob still on display. Priceless.
Of course there is much to learn about taking care of a newborn. I have a PhD in Physics yet I couldn’t figure out how to fasten the million-or-so poppers on Henry’s first sleep suit. I experienced similar trouble the first time I used our baby carrier, which, if you don’t attach it properly, can end up looking like an accessory from some kind of sadomasochistic sex dungeon. And don’t get me started on our pushchair, which has more secret levers and switches than James Bond’s Aston Martin. I keep trying to collapse the damn thing to put into the car boot, but all I can seem to do is release an oil slick and launch some heat-seeking missiles.
I’m also still learning how to read Henry’s face. Mostly he’s a happy little chap, but his face becomes a ticking time bomb when he’s unhappy. The first sign of dissatisfaction is that his cheeks go a bit red, and then the countdown has begun. You’ve got about 5 seconds to do something before his little cheeks squash up into his eyes and his mouth opens wide and begins to wail. I must say, however, that he still looks incredibly cute even when he is flapping his tiny arms around and screaming loudly.
Henry has also taught me where I was going wrong during my University days, when hot female action was a little thin on the ground. The problem wasn’t my dubious fashion sense or the fact that I was studying Physics. Nope, the real reason I didn’t nail much fanny was because I didn’t have a newborn baby strapped to my chest. Seriously, since Henry was born I’ve had the attention of so many gorgeous women it’s just ridiculous. Whenever we’re in town I just send Dawn off to Mothercare while Henry and I cruise the streets for chicks. All the touching and stroking can get a little too much, however, in which case I just flick a few switches on the pram to activate a smoke screen so we can make our escape.
As time has passed we have established a bit of a routine and become generally more comfortable with our new lives. This air of calm has presented me with an ideal opportunity to secure financial approval for another gadget. “Darling, you know how important it is for us to have video of our precious little man as he grows up? Well, don’t you think your first-born is worth more than the 576 lines of standard definition we can get on our current camcorder?” Within 24 hours I had a gorgeous new Sony high definition camcorder in my hands. It’s too easy sometimes, it really is.
So our lives have certainly changed in quite a significant way. We’re now that couple in Starbucks with the screaming baby who is ruining everyone’s skinny latte. We’re now that couple who talk about babies all the time, even to people who really don’t care. We’re that couple with the big bags under our eyes. We’re that couple with the big smiles on our faces. We wouldn’t want it any other way.
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